


The Father's Day Picnic

by OtterlyDeerlightful



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Absent Parents, Cake Dad, Father's Day, Secret Friends Day, Sports Dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 00:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16336721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterlyDeerlightful/pseuds/OtterlyDeerlightful
Summary: My Secret Friends Day gift for @cutecutejames! I hope you like it! :3Stingy had been looking forward to showing off his dad at the Father's Day Picnic. Only...he's not there.





	The Father's Day Picnic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cutecutejames](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cutecutejames).



The boy had been so excited for the Father’s Day Picnic at school. He had turned in his RSVP slip earlier than anyone else, planned out the perfect outfit to wear—which included his _favorite_ yellow vest and polka dot bowtie, of course—weeks in advance, and even helped make some of the decorations for the event. The day had been circled on his calendar since it had been announced and the child had been so excited to show off his father to all of his friends. His father was the _best_ and, even better, the man had agreed to clear his always-super-duper-busy schedule and accompany his boy to the event. They were going to make everyone downright jealous.

Or, at least, they were supposed to.

Stingy rested his chin on his arms as he watched all his friends from where he sat at the picnic table. Pixel and his dads, Stephanie and her uncle…everyone had _somebody_ to be with for all of the events. Except for him. The boy sniffled and quickly ducked his face into his arms for a moment to brush away any hint of tears before they could be noticed.

“What’s wrong, Stingy?”

The boy barely spared the town hero a glance when the man sat down on the bench beside him.

“Oh. Hi, Sportacus,” he greeted quietly.

There was a pause before the hero spoke again. “My crystal went off,” he said slowly. “But I don’t see anyone who’s in trouble. Do _you_ know of anyone who might need some help?”

Stingy kept his eyes downcast and pulled his arms closer. He hunched over the table in defiance and tried to keep himself from sniffling again. He couldn’t let anyone see him cry, not even Sportacus. It was bad enough he was at the Father’s Day Picnic _without his father_ ; he didn’t need to be humiliated any further.

“No,” he finally answered, glancing up for a second at all of his friends and their dads playing some game in the field. “Everyone’s _happy_ ,” he grumbled. “Why shouldn’t they be?”

There was another stretch of brief silence before Sportacus spoke again, this time leaning slightly on the edge of the table to try and catch the boy’s eye. “What about you, Stingy? How come you’re not out there playing with everyone?”

The child seemed to shrink where he sat, trying to hide in plain sight. “I can’t,” he said sharply.

“Why not?”

The boy quivered, his jaw clenched as he tried to figure out another dismissive response, something to make Sportacus leave him alone and stop feeling sorry for him. Sorry for the loser with a father who wasn’t there when he had said he would be. It was no good. The damn broke.

“Because my father isn’t _here_!” Stingy shouted, his young anger exploding as violently as a dormant volcano. “It’s the _Father’s Day_ Picnic and he’s not here! My dad doesn’t want to be with me at all! Everyone else has someone, but I have _no one_!” Stingy looked up at the town hero with tears once again in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me, Sportacus? How come my dad doesn’t want to spend time with me?”

“Oh, Stingy, no,” Sportacus said softly, quickly pulling the little boy in for a hug. “I’m sure your father loves you very much, Stingy. Some grownups…they forget how important it is to show how much they love someone. Nothing is wrong with you, Stingy. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their son.”

“Do you mean that?” the child whimpered as his tears began to soak into Sportacus’ vest. He held onto the hero as tightly as he could.

“I do,” Sportacus answered firmly.

A new voice made the pair jump.

“What’s all the blubbering about?”

Stingy dared to peek out from Sportacus’ embrace to see the local villain towering over the two of them, his hands on his hips as he waited for an answer to his question. The boy sniffled again before wiping his nose on his sleeve. He would probably regret that later, but right now Stingy didn’t care; his face probably looked terrible from crying, so why shouldn’t his clothes look bad, too?

“Can I tell him?” Sportacus asked Stingy, waiting for the boy to offer a small nod before looking back up at Robbie. “Stingy is upset because his pabbi isn’t here for the picnic.”

Robbie appeared to be unphased. “Yeah, and? Mine’s not here either, do you see me whining about it?”

Stingy frowned, as did Sportacus. Robbie folded his arms over his chest and gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Who needs your dad to be around trying to make business deals with everyone when you have a blue kangaroo instead?”

Stingy’s look of angry betrayal quickly morphed into one of confusion instead. “Huh? What?”

The villain nodded toward the field. “Looks like they’re about to start some stupid three-legged race or something. Sound like something you’d want to win?”

Stingy sadly looked over at his friends, eyes twinkling. “More than anything,” he whispered.

“Then who better to run a race with than Sportaflippy-flop? I mean, really. You kids all say you’re so imaginative, but here _I_ am having to point out the obvious!”

“You’re…you’re right!” Stingy cried, jumping to his feet. “Sportacus! Sp-Sportacus, would you be _my_ dad for the picnic today? Please!

The hero flashed his villain a knowing smile before turning back to the boy. “Of course, Stingy! I’d be honored to. Come on, let’s go see if we can join them before the race starts.”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” the boy cried, all traces of tears already gone.

Stingy hugged Sportacus tightly around the waist. He took a few quick steps toward the field before pausing, turning around, and running back to hug Robbie as well. The villain let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden weight added to his legs, and looked down at the child with a borderline horrified expression.

“Thank you, Robbie! You’re the best!” Stingy yelled.

His thank you received, the boy ran off toward the field to flag down a teacher to see if he and Sportacus could take part in the race. The hero stood up and patted his nemesis on the shoulder. Robbie gave a squeak of faux pain at the strong man’s touch.

“That was a very good idea, Robbie. Thank you.”

“Of course it was. But what’re you thanking me for?” the other man asked as he brushed Sportacus’ hand away. “Not like you can help him in the pie eating contest coming up. That’s _my_ department. You go do your flippy running thing with him first.”

Sportacus chuckled. He shook his head, though he wore an amused smile. “Okay, Robbie,” he said warmly.

The hero struck his signature pose and dashed away to catch up with Stingy, leaving Robbie to wait for their return after the race was over. The villain gave a soft sigh as he watched the pair take their place in line before going off to help set up the pies a few tables down.


End file.
